


The Faultlie Collection

by MarcoFro5



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-01-31 06:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21441478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcoFro5/pseuds/MarcoFro5
Summary: I’m computer illiterate but going to try adding snips and small short stories about my favorite dating rivals all in here.
Relationships: Faultline/Lisa Wilbourn | Tattletale
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**What’s Best**

*They’re terrible. She hates dark chocolate. You should have tried practice batches before. Walnuts were a stupid idea. She hates them.*

“I love them,” Faultline said, taking another bite of the brownie.

*She couldn’t even look you in the eyes. She’s lying. Having a hard time swallowing.*

“Really?” Tattletale asked.

*Forced eye contact to reassure you. Wide in feigned shock. Still lying. Aware that your power is in play. She’s just following Valentine’s Day etiquette.*

“Of course, they’re delicious Lisa.”

*Lie.*

“You don’t have to pretend, you know? It’s okay.”

“I’m not lying.”

*Curt. She’s mad, upset that you caught her in a lie. She’s not a good fit for you. Too selfish, greedy, and self-centered. She hates you.*

Faultline grabbed Tattletale by the shoulder and pulled her close, shaking her out of her own thoughts. The hug was tight and warm.

“I love them. I love you.”

*She’s lying. She ha-*

“I love you too.”


	2. Rivals, Schmivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Lisa's birthday party, she and Faultline share some drinks, secrets, and a tender moment.

Faultline idly popped another roasted peanut into her mouth while she stared at her drink, the bourbon inside her glass dancing to the beat of the music. Sitting in the upper balcony of her club spared her from the bright strobe lights below but she would still rather be at her desk right now than in this booth. 

It was midnight and she had been nursing the same drink since the party started an hour or so ago. Too stressed to remain sober and too nervous to get drunk, Faultline took another sip before placing her glass back on the table. She sat alone, the seat across from her now empty with the rest of her crew either sleeping upstairs or partaking in the birthday festivities for Palanquin’s oh-so-honored guest. 

She ventured a look to her left toward the group of 10 or 12 gathered around and inside a corner booth, a large birthday cake taking up room in the center. Leaning over it was an all-too familiar face with freckles running up the bridge of her nose and dark blonde hair hanging off her shoulders. A grin stretched her lips before they pursed together to blow out the candles on the cake, the people around her clapping and cheering as if she just cured cancer. 

Ever since coming into Coil’s fortune, Tattletale had had just enough to make Faultline’s life unbearable. Faultline still couldn’t tell if offering millions to rent out the club for the party was just a way to cope or a jab at her. Probably the latter she thought as she took another sip. 

As the pleasantly bitter drink smoothly slid down her throat, the ice in the glass fell forward like an avalanche onto her nose and chilling her cheeks. She gave the heavyset bouncer at the top of the stairwell a look and he nodded as he made his way downstairs to get her another drink. 

Faultline’s desire for money outweighed her pride and she agreed to Tattletale having her birthday party here, but Faultline would be damned before leaving the young villainess alone in her club without a watchful eye. Although the two had come to a mutual understanding regarding an alliance, with Faultline agreeing not to accept jobs to come after her in exchange of being placed on the bankroll, Faultline still wouldn’t let her run hog-wild, not here.

Or at least not too wild, Faultline thought as she watched Tattletale chug some pink drink while the others egged her on. The music in the club shifted, with the pop song ending and some hip-hop song taking its place. Faultline had heard the song before when she had mistakenly allowed Newter a turn on the auxiliary cord during the road trip to Madison. The amigos was it? It wasn’t Faultline’s cup of tea but apparently it was Tattletale’s as she excitedly made her way to the open space on the balcony.

Faultline watched as Tattletale’s body jerked to the rhythm. The woman was dressed in a tight cocktail dress that bared her shoulders and stopped at her mid-thigh, slender pale legs extending beyond the black dress. White flowers filled the dress’ canvas and the material ran tight against her back and rear with the style meant to accentuate in the curves. Faultline considered a similar tight option for the aesthetic but reconsidered after discovering its impracticality with movement. 

Those difficulties didn’t extend to Tattletale though it seemed as her hips bucked and her waist shook in tune to the beat. Faultline could feel warmth rise to her face as she watched, the bourbon finally working its magic she mused. She distractedly lifted her glass again only to remember it was empty, taking some ice into her mouth to chew on and pulling her eyes away from Tattletale to look over the railing to see the progress on her drink. 

As the song came to a close, the bouncer finally made his way back upstairs, an Old-Fashioned in hand. He placed it on her table and it couldn’t have come at a better time as Tattletale stumbled her way.

Faultline pressed the glass to her lips and poured the drink into her mouth, swallowing as much as she could before the blonde could reach her. She would need every drop possible. 

Despite the entire other side of the booth being open, Tattletale half-sat, half-crashed into her side. 

“Faultline, my-my favorite mercenary. What kind of host doesn’t come wish the guest a happy birthday?” 

Tattletale’s voice slurred and her breathed reeked of a mix of citrus and alcohol. Faultline would be less bothered if not for the intrusion of space to the point where their faces were inches apart. Faultline scooted over for some breathing room and Tattletale only settled in more. Give her an inch and she’ll take a mile, Faultline thought.

“What kind of guest is wasted beyond belief an hour into her own birthday party?”

“What k-kind of guest isssn’t? Come on, it’s a party. Let’sss party. Why are you all alone? Do you not like me or something?” The rhetorical question was followed by practically maniacal laughter that managed to drown out the music. It only stopped when she grabbed a handful of peanuts and shoved them into her mouth and spoke again, struggling enough with chewing and speaking at the same time that Faultline thought she would choke. “Still Fault-y just because you don’t like someone does-doesn’t mean you have to be a bitch ‘bout it.”

Faultine sharply turned to respond and saw the smug look that awaited her gaze. Faultline felt her blood boil before calming herself and taking another drink. Years of interacting with the girl and she still found ways to irritate her beyond belief.

“I’m not a bitch, I’m just not exactly friendly towards arrogant brats,” Faultine retorted. Tattletale only laughed again before flicking Faultline’s glass. 

“Wh-what’re you drinking by the way? It’s got like like a cherry, is that like a Mai Tai or what?”

“An old-fashioned. Never had one?”

Tattletale shook her head, the green in her eyes shaking like dull marbles.

“Seriously? It’s like the original cocktail, everyone knows what it is.”

“Yeah well not me okay. You sound really pretentious as fuck right now by the way.”  
Faultine could see Tattltale’s eyes dart downwards in… shame? Embarrasment? Was she seriously upset that she didn’t know? Faultined used her knuckles to edge the glass to here. 

“Here. Try it.”

“Fine, I’ll try your original whatever.”

She watched as Tattletale brought the glass to her mouth, her lips curling around the rim as she took a big sip. Faultline snorted as Tattletale’s face scrunched up and she coughed. 

“Ewwwww what the fuck! How do you drink that?! It-it’s like straight liquor.”

“It’s bourbon.”

“Fuck bourbon.” Faultline nearly banished her from the club on the spot for such a grievous comment but the girl was already standing. “H-hold on I’m going to get us some reeeeal drinks okay?”

As Tattletale stumble-ran to a table with a collection of drinks ranging from martinis to jello shots, Faultline thought about leaving before she could get back. She had been more than cordial, even offering some of her drink and done her part not to make the night a disaster. But as she watched Tattletale bounce and bob to the beat of whatever song was playing as she picked out what would surely be the worst drinks on the table, something convinced Faultline to stay seated. 

When she returned, her fingers clasped four small glasses of some light brown concoction with whipped cream across the top. She carefully sat them down before shuffling into the empty seat this time. She effortlessly slid two of the glasses in front of Faultline, whipped cream jiggling but keeping the liquid contained within. 

Faultline took one and rose it up in the lights, investigating the dessert in a glass. “And what is this supposed to be?”

“They’re buttery nipples!”

Faultine blinked a few times. 

“Excuse me?”

“It’s like butterscotch.” She grabbed one in each hand and gestured for her to do the same. “Come onnnnn, right first, then left okay.”

“Why are we doing two?”

“Ugghhh so many questions, you can’t just take one. They’re nipplesssss, plural. You do have two nips don’t you?” She cocked one eyebrow as she said it, smirking all the while. Faultline downed one, the brown sugar washing over her tongue and down her throat, before tossing the second back as well. She licked her lips free of the whipped cream and watched Tattletale take hers.

“Soooo how was it? B-better than that bitter sshhhit right?”

“No, but it was fine. I've had worse.”

“I’ll take it. Let’s do some some more then!”

Before Faultline could protest, she was off and chanting as she pumped her fists in the air, despite herself Faultline smiled at the display.

“Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots!” 

***

Melanie loved the warm, comforting feeling that came from being drunk but hated the way it affected her body and head. Her movements weren’t as quick and she felt like each step put her closer to toppling over. That feeling of unease left when Tattletale took her hand, squeezing it tight, and Faultline’s imbalance was replaced with stability.

Leaning on Tattletale more than she probably needed to, they both stumbled to the center of the dance floor. They danced to a few songs and Melanie was thankful that the DJ played throwback after throwback. Both of them were working up at a sweat as the songs wore on, with Melanie eventually having to take off her jacket, sporting a white dress shirt neatly tucked into a pair of black jeans underneath. 

She wasn’t much of a dancer already and looked even more amatuer in comparison to Lisa, who was not only able to roll her hips effortlessly but able to drop low to the ground while doing so. The liquid courage in Melanie’s system kept her going though and she had fun watching Lisa smile and dance. As the music slowed and another song began, Lisa leaned forward and got close to Faultline’s ear to be heard. 

“I don’t know this one,” she whispered, cool air tickling Faultline’s ear.

“Seriously? It’s Marvin Gaye, like a classic. Here, get close.”

Melanie took hold of Lisa’s left hand with her right, interlocking the fingers for a better grip. She took hold of Lisa’s bare shoulder and used it to pull her closer so that only a few inches separated them. Together they rocked side to side, their eyes making contact until one of them broke the stare. Melanie’s gaze drifted down Lisa’s body, taking in her curves where her chest narrowed into her waist before swelling back out to her hips like an hourglass, the dress clinging tightly to her figure. 

Tattletale took another step closer and buried her head into Melanie’s shoulder. Faultline wrapped her arm across Lisa’s back and pulled her in closer in hug as they swayed together. Melanie could feel her collarbone vibrate as Lisa hummed into it. The song ended and another took its place but neither Lisa or Faultline broke the embrace. Instead, Lisa craned her head up to look at Melanie, and Faultline felt a little speechless at the sight of her eyes. This close they looked less like jade and more like olives, a stunning muted shade of green glittering in a sea of white. 

“Can I do something stupid right now?” Tattletale asked.

Faultline only nodded, not trusting herself to speak. 

Tattletale closed her eyes and leaned in, her lips separating before meeting Faultline’s. Their mouths came together and it felt like electricity ran between them as they kissed. Lisa’s tongue ran across Faultline’s bottom lip and she could feel Lisa’s lips pressing together against hers. It felt like forever and yet still ended too soon as Tattletale pulled away, nuzzling back into Faultline’s shoulder. Melanie rested her head against Lisa’s and the two rocked back and forth in the embrace. The song ended, another started, and neither moved an inch.


	3. The Day After

Melanie gingerly grabbed the doorknob and twisted, immediately thankful that she has doused it and the door’s hinges with WD-40 as she slowly stepped inside. The room was pitch black apart from the light that leaked in from the hallway, a ray of light just wide enough to let Melanie slide in without making a sound.

She was greeted with a groan, a deep noise that a teenager would make while rolling their eyes. Melanie ignored it. She squeezed the door shut after making her way inside, twisting the doorknob to prevent the door from clicking once shut. Now came the hard part.

Each of her steps were measured as Melanie traversed the darkness, her eyes not yet adjusted to the lack of light. Her costume was stripped down, the heavier and clunkier bits removed to the point that she only wore a tank top and sweats. She had left her boots in the hallway and walked with just socks to muffle the steps she took. Melanie almost shivered from the chill at her soles from the wooden floorboards

But she remained composed, staying steady as she walked with the bundle of small boxes hugged tightly to her chest with an arm. Her progress was slow, but it was progress nonetheless. Three steps to get past the end table, Melanie’s free hand tracing the edge to serve as an anchor point in her mental map of the room. Another five and she made a wide left turn, overcompensating a bit but knowing that stubbing her toe on that damn leather sofa would be costly.

She approached the computer desk where Lisa sat nearly motionless. It was dark but Melanie could see her head was cradled in both hands, rubbing uselessly at her temples. Pills littered the space between her elbows and her keyboard and a nearly empty glass rested close enough to the edge of the desk that it made Melanie uneasy. She nudged it forward and made room as she set down the boxes she brought.

There wasn’t a lot that Melanie and Lisa saw eye to eye on but the orange chicken from Dancing Lotus was a guilty pleasure for both. Having to ditch the rustling plastic bag outside made carrying everything a hassle but Melanie managed.

Before arriving, she had carefully used her power on each container so now it only took a little push for the top of the paper boxes to break. It wasn’t silent but it was quieter than the obnoxious popping of the lids. Still, Lisa made an exaggerated whine with each little noise as the boxes were undone and the chicken or rice exposed. It had been Melanie’s idea to use her power after the debacle last week and Lisa was still bitter she didn’t come up with it first it seemed.

The thought of making a loud noise to really give her something to whine about crossed Melanie’s mind but she dismissed it, reflecting on how long yesterday had been for both Lisa and her. With everything laid out, Lisa lifted her head up, silently nabbing a spoon and digging out some rice.

Melanie reached for the bottle of boxed water she brought, cap already undone, and Lisa stopped her with a hand extended for Melanie to pause as if Lisa had some sort of regality. Melanie waited as the back of Lisa’s hand pressed against the bottle, as if Melanie could forget their heated debate on whether warm water was better than cold water. The temperature must’ve been cold enough as Lisa went back to eating without complaint. Melanie poured, letting the stream hit the side of the glass to cut down on noise.

Once done, Melanie began to eat as well and the two dined in silence, holding back satisfying sighs from the comfort food. They finished without incident and Melanie slowly packed everything back up for her to leave. Melanie brushed Lisa’s hair behind her ear and leaned down until her face was level with hers.

“Thank you,” they both whispered at the same time, hushed words washing over one another. Both girls smiled and Melanie felt a deep warmth in her chest that was from more than just the food. As Lisa buried her face in her hands once more, Melanie kissed her on the forehead and left.


	4. The Faultlie In Our Stars

Melanie shivered despite the layers of clothing she wore. It wasn’t that it was particularly cold, but it was night and the winds were relentless, gales singing as they whipped through the trees. She grabbed her scarf and pulled it over her nose and mouth, the thick wool bracing her face against the cold air. He hot breaths were trapped by her scarf and warmed her as she waited in the clearing of the untouched world.

Sounds of boots rustling fallen leaves and curse words drew Melanie’s attention behind her. Lisa muttered to herself as she stepped out of the tree line and into the clearing. She wore a lavender sweater with a diamond knit pattern and jeans that looked too tight to be comfortable. The wind tossed the ribbons of blonde hair that spilled out from under the beanie she wore and Lisa tucked the loose strands behind her ears before adjusting the striped tote bag that hung from her shoulder.

“You’re late,” Melanie called out as Lisa drew closer.

“And you were early,” Lisa replied. She flashed a grin as her soft green eyes studied Melanie’s face.

“Yeah well next time I won’t wait an eternity for you to show up,” Melanie lied.

The two embraced briefly and Melanie relieved Lisa of the tote and began to set things up.

“Sorry, things got busy and I lost track of time. Sneaking off to another world isn’t exactly easy.”

“I managed it pretty easily.”

“I said I was sorry, geez.” Lisa sighed as she pulled a blanket out of the bag and tried laying it out, the winds making it more than difficult. “You know, when you mentioned you wanted to keep our little dates a secret I thought that’d just mean me sneaking out of your club or some seedy hotels or shit. Not interdimensional booty calls.”

With a few more tries, Lisa was able to get the blanket situated, plopping down quickly to anchor it. Melanie set the tote down on the blanket before getting on her knees to better rifle through its contents.

“It’s not a booty call,” Melanie said, removing another blanket and a pillow, chucking both at Lisa. “And I thought you would like it out here, a chance to unplug and relax for a bit.”

“It’s alright,” Lisa remarked as she stretched out, using the pillow to prop herself up at the shoulders.

“Did you forget the cups?” Melanie asked as she searched the bag, tilting it to let more of the moonlight shine through.

“Fuck, yeah I did. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Melanie said as she fished out a tall thermos. She held it in her hand for a moment, the hot contents inside warming her palms before she passed it off to Lisa who began unscrewing the lid and pouring the drink into it. “We’ll just have to share. And I mean actually share, not the kind of sharing where you drink until I force you to give me some like you did with the champagne last Sunday.”

Melanie pulled out another pillow for herself, a handful of granola bars, and a bag of jumbo marshmallows that she immediately tore into.

“I promise I’ll be good if you promise to finally untwist your panties about that. It’s not a good look Faulty.”

Melanie flung a marshmallow at Lisa’s smug face, the soft confection harmlessly bouncing off her nose and onto the knitted blanket that now covered her. Lisa only grinned harder as she popped it into her mouth. Melanie situated herself and laid down close to Lisa, grabbing the blanket and to cover her as well and snuggling close to her.

Lisa blew on the lid of the thermos, the visible wisps coming from the hot drink in the cool air vanishing. She handed it to Melanie who took a quick sip of the hot chocolate before passing it back. The liquid warmed Melanie to her core as it raced down her throat and into her chest. She wiggled closer to Lisa, who leaned her head against Melanie’s shoulder and the two stared up at the star-filled sky.


End file.
